


Summer

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: Best Laid Plans Series [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pain, Reader-Insert, Self-Mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: When Sam does the unthinkable, John comes to Y/n's rescue.~~~~~~~~~~~~You were sitting down to read a book when a knock came to the door. You set the book down and walked to the front door, grabbing a shotgun and pumping it as you approached. “Y/n!” Sam shouted as he pounded on the door again.“What?” you called as you looked through the peephole at him. He looked agitated, like an alpha in rut, but his scent filtering through the door told you he wasn’t.“Open the door, Y/n. I gotta talk to you,” he said.“No, Sam. I don’t-”“Open the door, Omega!” he demanded, Alpha Voice in effect. You had no choice but to unlock the deadbolt and pull the door open, letting him in. “Why do you make me use the Voice?” he snapped as he pushed the door closed.“It’d be real nice if you didn’t fucking do that, actually, Sam. I hate when you force me into shit.”“Well, if you would just do what I wanted the first time I ask-”“I’m allowed to say ‘no’ to things, Sam!” you said, still aiming the shotgun at him. “I may be an omega, but I’m still a human being and you used to know that.”
Relationships: John Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/You
Series: Best Laid Plans Series [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526507
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Summer

**Story Warnings** : angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, angst, Dean being dead, forced marking, mentions of noncon, self-mutilation, omegas being treated poorly, unprotected sex, **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!**...did I mention angst?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a month before you could leave your room. A month of tears and depression. A month of listening to Bobby fill his glass from bottles of bourbon downstairs. A month of being too depressed to even get up and pour your own drink.

But you got up, eventually. You started moving around the house and around the salvage yard. You started showering again, started eating more than just the bare minimum required to keep you alive. You started to move on. Your heart was still broken, you were still mourning Dean’s loss, but you weren’t dying over it.

“Got a job in Kentucky,” Bobby said, as he poured a cup of coffee. “Looks like a poltergeist.”

You nodded. “Do you need backup?” you asked, quietly.

“Nah. Just a job for one. I’ll take it.”

“I’ll man the phones,” you said, smiling tightly at him.

“Okay, girl. You good?”

“I’m good. You good?”

He just nodded. “I’ll call you if I need ya.”

He would make sure that he didn’t need you, you could tell by the tone of his voice. He left you to your own devices and you started to focus on making the house livable again. You took it a room at a time as you filled trash bags with empty bottles and pizza boxes, almost-undecipherable scribblings.

It took all day, but eventually you got the house clean. You were sitting down to read a book when a knock came to the door. You set the book down and walked to the front door, grabbing a shotgun and pumping it as you approached. “Y/n!” Sam shouted as he pounded on the door again.

“What?” you called as you looked through the peephole at him. He looked agitated, like an alpha in rut, but his scent filtering through the door told you he wasn’t.

“Open the door, Y/n. I gotta talk to you,” he said.

“No, Sam. I don’t-”

“Open the door, Omega!” he demanded, Alpha Voice in effect. You had no choice but to unlock the deadbolt and pull the door open, letting him in. “Why do you make me use the Voice?” he snapped as he pushed the door closed.

“It’d be real nice if you didn’t fucking do that, actually, Sam. I hate when you force me into shit.”

“Well, if you would just do what I wanted the first time I ask-”

“I’m allowed to say ‘no’ to things, Sam!” you said, still aiming the shotgun at him. “I may be an omega, but I’m still a human being and you _used_ to know that.”

He scoffed and looked down at the shotgun. “When did you become such a bitch?” he snapped.

“A long time before you became _this_ knothead piece of shit,” you responded, setting the shotgun down and heading into the kitchen for a drink. “What do you want?”

“Where’s Bobby?” he asked, following you.

“Kentucky. Poltergeist,” you answered, grabbing a beer and twisting it open. You took a deep breath as Sam started pacing back and forth across the kitchen, still acting agitated. Nothing in his scent said ‘rut’, but there was _something_ wrong with it. Something...rotten. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

He stopped in his tracks and turned to you, eyes snapping to yours. Hazel eyes with big, dark pupils. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Are you high?” you asked, leaning forward and squinted to see his eyes better.

“No!” he disputed, looking away as anger and shame filled his scent.

You scoffed and set the beer on the counter, stepping closer. “What are you on?”

The growl he let out made your whole body go stiff, a shiver running through you that you couldn’t control. You swallowed as he glared at you, fear and excitement rushing your nerves. This was an already aggro alpha, high and angry. ‘Run’ was the only option that came to mind.

A sense of deja vu came over you as you pulled open the back door and went running through the cars. John had chased you just the same way Sam was now...but part of you had wanted John to catch you, you didn’t even want his son to touch you.

You could hear Sam growling. You could hear his gigantic body barrelling through the yard after you. Everything in you said that you were in absolute danger. This Sam was something wrong...dark and scary.

Your breath was knocked out of you as he tackled you to the gravel and mud. He flipped you onto your back and pinned your wrists beside your head. “Sam, what the fuck are you-” You struggled against his hold, looking up into his still-dilated eyes.

“You--stop it!” he growled, holding himself over you, panting heavily in your face. “You are the most infuriating woman I have _ever_ met. Why do you have to make-”

“Sam, get off of me!” you snapped.

“No! Shut up!” he demanded, pressing your wrists into the ground harder. “You’ve been my omega since we were kids, Y/n. Why do you keep running away from me?”

“You know why-”

“I did what I was supposed to do!” he interrupted. “Alphas mark their omegas, omegas have their alpha’s pups. It’s natural!”

“I didn’t want it!” you shouted.

“Dean was dead! You couldn’t have his pups and you can’t have them now!” His eyes moved to your neck and the fear in you swelled up. “You can’t run if you’re connected to me.”

“No! No, Sam, don’t--not a-fucking-gain!” you screamed as he leaned his head down and bit into your neck. The pain that went through you made you screech, high-pitched sound echoing through the cars.

Sam had blood on his lips as he pulled back but he didn’t seem to mind it. “Now, you can’t run...and you’re gonna give me-” You yanked your hands out of his grip before he could say ‘pups’. You weren’t going to allow him to touch you any more than he had. You weren’t going to let him fail to put a child in you. Not without your consent. Not high and stupid.

Pain and rage fueled you as you slammed the heel of your palm into his nose, following it with your forehead into his mouth. Elbows and knees flew out in precision strikes that he seemed completely unprepared for, animal instinct of self-preservation making you lash out with your teeth and nails when he tried to get you back under his control. His face was covered in blood as you got to your feet and glared down at him, hand covering your new mark. Your right foot shot out and connected with his shoulder as you kicked him.

“You get the fuck outta here. You get in Dean’s car and get the hell outta Sioux Falls. If I see you again,” you started, pulling your hand away to look at the blood. “I will chop your knot off and shove it down your fucking throat, you unbelievable douchebag. Understand me, you piece of shit?”

Sam nodded and scrambled backward. “You’ll be saying something different when you hit your next heat,” he said, wiping at his nose as he walked toward where he parked the Impala.

You hated that he was right. As soon as you went into heat, your body was going to _need_ him. Not just any alpha, it was going to need Sam.

You'd burn that bridge when you got to it. First, you needed to get out of South Dakota, too. Bobby was going to come home and you couldn't let him see the mark on your neck when he did. He'd never forgive Sam and you weren't about to be the reason Bobby lost his other pseudo-son.

You cleaned up your neck wound, packed your bag, left a note for Bobby, and hitchhiked in the direction of the first truck that pulled over for you. You ended up in a semi that took you to Salt Lake City. You thanked the trucker as you parted ways with her at an interstate motel and got a room. As soon as you were alone, you pulled open your laptop and went into research mode.

Breaking a mating bond was almost impossible for an omega. Alphas put the mark on, so alphas had to break it...which Sam would never do.

Nothing is impossible, though. You just needed to keep looking for that one way. As someone who died, survived Hell and the Underworld, you knew you could find a way...and you did, in an old article about why Congress passed legislation in 1987 that allowed alphas to forcibly commit newly-claimed omegas for observation to make sure they don't hurt themselves.

' _Obscuring the mark has never worked. In the thousands of years since humans evolved the Alpha and Omega genes, omegas have tried many effacement techniques to no avail. There is only one way, usually only achieved through back alley surgeries. The mark, and all affected tissues (including the scent gland), must be cut out completely. This, of course, is dangerous and painful, leaving its own lasting mark on the omega. Hundreds of omegas die every year attempting this procedure_ '.

One way. One painful, dangerous way. Perfect.

It wasn't the first time you'd played "motel room surgeon", but it was the first time you'd done something so big, bigger than a bullet extraction or a wound closure. You bought a brand new X-acto knife and soaked it in rubbing alcohol, stole a dozen white towels from the maids' cart, moved the two floor lamps to better light the bathroom and sat down to start working.

Your stomach was in knots as you picked up the knife. You kept reminding yourself that it was the only way, that you'd had worse in Hell, that you could deal with blood and pain if it kept you from running to Sam as soon as your heat came up. Not this Sam. Not the Sam who forgot who you were. You took a deep breath and raised a shaking hand to press the blade into your neck above your mark.

You whimpered as you cut into your neck, blood springing up as you made yourself slice deeper. If the demons could slice you to pieces, then you could slice just one piece off yourself. You held down your screams as blood coated your chest.

The motel door burst inward and you jerked, dropping the knife to the floor as John rushed in. “What are you doing, girl?!” he demanded as he grabbed one of the towels and pressed it to your neck.

“I have to get it off,” you answered weakly. “You have to--have to--have to-”

John pulled the towel away enough to look at the mark and the cut, then pressed the towel back into your neck. “Sammy?”

“Yeah. I have to get it--get it off before August.”

“That’s when your next-”

“Yes!” you interrupted. “Please, John. Help me.”

He sighed and shook his head, pressing his hand harder into your neck. “I’m not going to help you mutilate yourself, Y/n.”

“But-”

“No,” he said, firmly. “We’re gonna clean you up and I’m gonna stitch you up and we’re going to figure out something to get you through August. We’ve got time, sweetheart. It’s only June. We’ll figure something out.”

You tried to shake your head, but pain shot through you at the movement. “John, I…”

“We’re going to figure something out, Y/n. I promise,” he said, softly...and you believed him. He started cleaning your wound, sighing as he looked you over. “You didn’t get too deep. You’ll be okay.” He prepped a needle and began to stitch your skin together. “You know how stupid this was, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “But I--I couldn’t...I don’t know what’s wrong with Sam. He’s not Sam.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was…” You groaned as the needle went through your skin. “He was high on something. Aggressive, dark, he knew I didn’t want his mark, but he did it anyway and he was going to...if I hadn’t fought him off of me, he was going to…” You didn’t need to finish the sentence. You could tell by the anger in John’s scent and posture that he knew what Sam was going to do. “There’s something wrong with him.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly.

He finished your stitches, put you on the bed, got you in a clean shirt and wrapped you in his jacket, the smell of him on the fabric comforting you as he cleaned up the blood in the bathroom and put the lamps back where they belonged. “How’d you find me?” you asked, suddenly, as he walked across the room.

“I knew there was something wrong,” he said, setting the lamp in the corner and moving to sit next to you on the bed. “I was driving toward Portland and I got this feeling of...fear, for no reason...followed by rage. I just knew I had to get to you. I was just crossing the city limits when the pain hit.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing a mix of confusion and fear in them. “You _felt_ -”

“Guess we’re more connected than just me imprinting on you,” he said quietly, before smiling and reaching out to caress your jaw. “Never do this shit again, sweetheart. Don’t hurt us both, ya know?”

“Yeah. Okay. Sorry, John.”

‘Connected’. Sam forced a connection with you, but John...John already had one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month and a half later, you and John were in his truck on the way to a hunt in Alexandria, Louisiana. It took a long while to get him to allow you back on the job instead of just leaving you in the motel room to do the research, but he was finally happy enough with the healing of your neck wound that he agreed to let you participate in the action.

As you and John went through the motions of the job, your mind was preoccupied with the date. You were three weeks out from your next cycle. You and John had both taken some of the time you were healing to try and find something to get you through your heats without the alpha who claimed you, but there wasn’t much in the way of options that didn’t involve cutting chunks of your body off.

“We could double up on your suppressants. It’ll help cut down your heat a bit,” John suggested as you walked through the cemetery heading for a tomb in the back.

“Yeah. When my kidneys die from chemical overload, it’ll cut my heat right down,” you snarked at him.

“Okay, well, then why don’t we just knock you out with something, huh?”

“Or you could mark me,” you suggested. Your tone was nonchalant, but your heart was pounding in your ears. You’d been considering it for weeks, since the first time you read an account of a pack omega having no ill effects after one of her alphas was sent to prison. John stopped and turned to you. “You’re his father...if you mark me, it’ll be...pack marking.”

“And then you could ride your heats out with me,” he said, cautiously.

“Yeah...I mean, it’s not like it’d be a new thing.”

“No, but...you’ve always told me to keep my teeth out of you, Y/n.”

“Yeah, but that was before Sam marked me.” You swallowed and kept walking, stepping away from him. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, John. I wouldn’t want to take away from the memory of-”

“I didn’t hesitate because of Mary,” he said, following you. “I just want to make sure that you’ve thought this through, kid.”

“No. No, I _haven’t_ been trying to figure out another way to get through this for the past six weeks,” you responded sarcastically. John grabbed your hand and pulled you gently backward. You sighed and looked up into his eyes, hazels looking so dark in the moonlight. “I’ve thought it through, John. What Sam did...it was horrible and...I need _you_ to help me fix it.”

He ran his hands up your arms to massage your shoulders. “Of course I’ll help you, sweetheart. As long as you really want it.”

You nodded. “I do.”

“Well, then...let’s put this spirit down and then we can...fix this,” he said, letting his left hand move to rest above the bite mark Sam had given you and the healing scar you gave yourself. The fingers of his right hand dug lightly into your left scent gland. “We’ll fix it.” You smiled and covered his hand with yours.

“Yeah. We will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John sent you to shower as soon as you got back to the motel. “Wash the blocker off. I don’t want that shit in my mouth. And get those muscles relaxed, okay? I’m gonna get an ice pack and some painkillers. Take your time, Y/n.”

You took your time in the shower, just as he instructed, taking care to shave everything and clean every inch of your body. When you left the bathroom wrapped in a towel, it was an hour later and the sight of the main room made you gasp. The lights were off, but the room was bathed in the glow of candlelight. Five or six white candles were scattered across the surfaces of the room. “What is this?”

John looked a little awkward as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just thinking...that you deserve for it to be nice. After what Sam did...you should have…” He sighed and looked away. “It’s too romance novel, isn’t it? This is stupid.”

“No!” you exclaimed, stepping up in front of him. “Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me. It’s really sweet, John. Thank you,” you whispered, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re an amazing man.”

“You’re an amazing woman, Y/n. It’s no wonder my sons were so obsessed with you.”

“Oh, please,” you responded, rolling your eyes. “Sam was just high...and Dean didn’t-”

“I know my boys, Y/n. I know them well. He’d never say it, but Dean loved you...and Dean loving you was the only thing keeping Sam from marking you before he did, sweetheart.” You swallowed as he leaned down to hover his lips over yours. “It’s one’a the reasons I always held back.”

“Well, no need to hold back now,” you said, dropping the towel to your feet and pulling him in for a kiss.

It occurred to you, as you started to pull at the buttons on his red flannel shirt, that this was the first time you were kissing him without pheromones pushing you to do it, the first time that you weren’t in heat and he wasn’t in rut, the first time that it was just you and John. No frenzy, no craziness. Just you letting him push you to the bed, shadows from dancing candlelight running across your skin like his lips and tongue.

You gasped when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, tongue laving over it until it pebbled. “Oh, fuck, John,” you whimpered, grabbing at his hair as he moved his attention to the other nipple and sucked hard.

“So pretty,” he mumbled into your breast, hand trailing down your body to rub his fingertips down your slit. His teeth scraped across your nipple and you let out a low moan. “Pretty omega makes such pretty noises.”

“John, please!”

“Shhhh. We’ll get there, sweetheart.” His voice rumbled through you and you sighed as relaxation took you over you. Your body seemed to melt as his middle finger slipped into you. He moved to slot his lips over yours, kissing you softly as he started to fuck his finger in and out of you.

It was soft and sweet, pleasure slowly ramping up as you rolled your hips against his hand. You couldn’t help but think about your first time with Dean, how gentle and tender he was. You forced your brain to focus on the Winchester with you, not the one in Hell. This hardass alpha hunter being tender and sweet with you, pressing the heel of his palm against your clit as he licked your tongue.

Your toes curled as he coaxed an orgasm out of you, pressing his lips to yours to muffle your moans. He pulled his hand away from you, sucking his middle finger in between his lips and licking the taste of you from his skin. “Taste so good, Y/n,” he groaned as he settled between your legs, hard alpha cock resting against your slit as he looked down at you, emotions swirling in his hazel eyes. “You’re so beautiful, little Omega.”

Your face heated up at the praise and you looked away, eyes falling on the first aid and painkillers on the side table. John was the closest you were ever going to be to wearing Dean’s mark...but part of you hated taking away from what John had with Mary.

But Mary and Dean were both dead.

You wrapped your hand around John’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss, canting your hips up to rub yourself against him. “Please, Alpha,” you whispered against his lips. That’s all it took. John pressed a harsh kiss to your lips and reached his right hand between your bodies to line his cock up with your entrance. You whined as he pushed his length into you, stretching you perfectly. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” you whimpered, grabbing at his shoulders as he started to rock against you.

He leaned back, watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. “Look’it that. Fuckin’ perfect,” he said, a mesmerized tone in his voice as he slowly pulled out to just the head and pushed back in just as slow. “I’m gonna fill you full of cum just like the first time I got you, baby girl. You ready?”

The ‘please’ that left your mouth didn’t even sound like you, but it was good enough for John, who reached out to grab your breasts, leaning over you as he started thrusting his cock into you faster and faster. It was a perfect scenario, pleasure flowing over both of you, your cunt clenching hard around his cock as he fucked into you.

You met him for each thrust, grabbing at his shoulders and running your nails down his back to grab his ass. When the thick muscle at the base of his cock started inflating, he started kissing and sucking at the left side of your neck. You knew what was coming and for the first time, you were okay with it. The pain would be worth it. John’s teeth pierced your skin as his knot caught in your pussy and your nails dug into his ass as he ground his pubic bone into your clit. His breath caught as his cock twitched, cum filling you as he licked at your second mark.

He pulled back, going up on his left arm so that he could reach out and grab the cold pack from the side table. “We’ll get you patched up in a couple minutes,” he said as you reached up to hold the cooling gel pack to your wound.

“It’s fine, John. I’m fine,” you assured him.

“You will be. After you let me take care of you...like a good alpha does.” He dipped back down and ran the tip of his nose across yours. There was a bit of doubt in the way he said it, so you kissed him.

“You’re a perfect alpha, John,” you whispered. He just smiled down at you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

People kept staring at you. Omegas were not a thing in Phoenix. Omega FBI agents were, apparently, unicorns. You’d never had so many people question your cover story, never had so many people _examine_ your badge...like any of them knew what Fed credentials actually looked like.

“Affirmative action?!” you exclaimed as you left a witness’ house. “I’ll show her Affirmative Action!”

“Calm down, ‘mega,” John said, putting a soothing hand on your back as you walked toward the truck.

“‘Calm do-’” You shook your head. “John, you heard her! Omegas have been allowed in the FBI since 1983, by the way. I looked that shit up before Bobby made my first badge. What kinda bullshit place is this? We oughta let the witch live, clear out some of the riff raff.” Your phone started ringing as you got to the GMC, so you pulled it out of your pocket. ‘ **Bobby** ’ shined up at you. You hadn’t spoken to him much over the summer. It was too hard to explain why you weren’t at the salvage yard, why you were traveling with John, so you’d kept your conversations short. “Yeah, Bobby?” you answered.

“Don’t hang up, Y/n,” a voice you hadn’t heard in months, outside of your dreams, said. You froze, hand on the handle of the door. It couldn’t be. “I’m back.”

Words didn’t come as tears overwhelmed your eyes. John noticed your absence from the truck and climbed down, walking around the front to investigate. His eyebrows came together as he took in your expression. “Who’s on the phone, Y/n?” You opened your mouth but no sound escaped you.

“Is that Dad?” Dean asked in your ear. “Is Sammy with you?” No answer left you for Dean either, so John reached out and took the phone from you.

“Who is this?” You leaned against the side of the truck, your heart pounding in your chest as John chuckled. “Goddamn! How’d you manage it, son?” He scoffed. “Well, we will head to Bobby’s place and figure it out together.” He cleared his throat. “No, uh...neither of us have seen Sammy since July. It’s complicated. We shouldn’t get into it over the phone.” Your hand moved to the mark on your right hand side and you swallowed thickly. “Think she’s a bit in shock, but she’ll get over it before we get to you. Arizona, but this place was already chafin’ Y/n’s nerves so we’ll call another hunter into it. We’ll be there tomorrow, Dean. It’s really great to have you back.”

He clicked your phone off and tucked it into your suit jacket. “That was really him?” you asked, your voice small and squeaky.

“Yeah. Bobby did all the tests. It’s really him.” Your only thought was how to explain the marks on your neck. He wasn’t going to understand. “Let’s get on the road. We’ve got a long drive to Sioux Falls...and you’re gonna wanna keep your flannels buttoned up until you feel comfortable explaining…” You nodded and pulled open the door, grabbing the JC bar and hauling yourself into the cab of the truck.

September 18, 2008...the day your love came back and shattered any semblance of structure in your world.


End file.
